The clock reads 12:03 while I walk past it. As I make my way to my bathroom, planning on running a bath, my eyes run over the calendar I have pinned to the tack-board above my desk, graduation is this week. When I get to my bathtub I run the water as hot as it will allow. Peeling off my sweat-soaked clothes, I catch a glimpse of myself in my full body wall mirror. My normally tan abdomen has multiple bruises, all of them the size of softballs. Seeing as I just woke up, I figure I have enough energy to force heal myself. I allow my body heat to rise and pinpoint the bruises, killing the damaged cells and simultaneously replacing them. Leaving my sweaty clothes in a pile on the floor, I slip into the now full tub and watch the water as it starts to bubble and boil from being in immediate contact with my skin. When the bubbling finally calms down I take a deep breath and slip to the bottom of the tub. I close my eyes and tilt my head back until my face is submerged in the water.

Time whizzes by while I'm under. The silence of being completely covered in water allows me a serenity than pales in comparison to only one. I think of all the things that ail me presently. Zayne's proposition is the first thing that comes to mind but then I think about Eric's obvious attachment despite our arrangement and Rue who is pining over that douche, who's distancing himself, and has very much done something wrong. By then time I am ready to come up, I have my mind made up. After graduation, I will go attend the Faraday Coast University with Zayne. I also figure that when Rue's spineless coward finally does come clean, I could very much be long gone. So, I've decided to give him a little motivation to let everyone know what is going on with him.

The water has begun to go cold, so I use my excessive body heat to rewarm the water. I sink back under the water to try and rest my mind for a while. I imagine myself sprawled out in the grass under the big tree in the school yard. I imagine waves of fire rolling in and burning the background of this mental image until I don't see anything but myself laid out a clean white canvas. That part is easy this next part is almost impossible. I start with my toes. I imagine a fire burning my toes until all I can see in the space where they once were, is the white of the background. I force the fire to rise, devouring my body and scars inch by inch, as if burning away a layered cardboard cutout. After a while, my legs and hips are gone, the fire begins to eat away at my fingertips and torso. It is halfway up my arm when my knee shift ever so slightly. I might not have even noticed if not for the self-awareness this exercise begs for. This shift forces me to start back at the beginning. I see myself sprawled out in the grass under the big tree in the school yard again. I repeat this process 5 more times, never able to pass my shoulders. After the 6th failed attempt I give up. At this point my lungs are screaming for air so I lift my body out of the water. I release a deep breath and inhale even deeper as I pull the plug from the drain, allowing the water to escape the tub. Not waiting for the water to drain completely, I restart the water and turn on the shower head.

Lying on my bed naked and in the process of air-drying, I let my mind wander. I loll my head to the side, to look at the bright red numbers on my digital alarm clock. 2:21. I sigh and roll my head back in the position to stare at my ceiling. I want my mind to go blank, but my brain runs on like a never stopping train. I ride my mental train to a simpler time, to a time before I was abducted. Unable to bear the image of a young happier version of me, even just in third-person memories, I sit up. The rush of sitting up allows a rush of cold air to travel along my body, making my nipples harden and goose bumps to rise on my upper arms. Now standing, the hardwood floor is freezing under my bare semi-wet feet. I walk over to the old bookshelf next to the door of my closet and run my hand over the spines of every individual book. My hand pauses over an especially withered spine. "Stargirl" by Jerry Spinelli, the book I got my meditation idea from. A smile briefly flits over my face. I pull the book from its resting place and admire the nearly 8 year-old paperback. I can't help but to let my index finger trace the texture of the golden star and the green stick figure girl below it. Opening the book to a random page, I make my way to my window seat.

I flip through the book and read the post-it notes I left all those years ago, some of them so old that they no longer stick to the pages. Despite my best efforts, tears stream down my face as I read what 10 year-old me had to say about love and belonging. Not wanting to ruin the aging pages with my tears, I close the book and cry. I cry for my innocence lost and my childhood that I was robbed of. I cry for the years lost and blood, shed. I cry for the life that I will never have the chance of knowing. And most of all, I cry because I lived. I lived and found a way out of that hell. I escaped the torture and mutilation and agony, but I will never be able to escape my mind. So I cry. I let my sobs rack my body as if my heart is trying to leave my body. I cry until my throat is raw. I cry until my red puffy eyes are so sore I can barely open them. I cry until my head aches worse than any hangover. I cry because I have to. I cry because if I don't, I will never be able to function as anything other than a monotonous drone. I cry until I can't cry anymore. And then I laugh. I laugh with everything in me. Raw throat, puffy eyes, heavy heart and all. I laugh so hard my stomach cramps and lungs burn. I think of what would happen if someone saw me in my current state and laugh even harder. I wheeze and pant and keep on laughing. I let my raging emotions loose in the dark of night in the confines of my room, so that they do not overthrow me in the middle of the day for all to see.

When I have finally calmed, I feel nothing. I am an unfeeling, panting, naked mess, when I look back at my alarm clock. It now reads 5:42. My body goes lax in the window seat as I turn my head to look out at the moon. The words waning crescent moon cross my mind for a moment, but I dismiss that bit of trivia. I mindlessly get up and make my way over to my bathroom again. Standing in front of the sink mirror I'm mildly aware of my hand rummaging around for my hair dryer. My body moves on its own accord preparing itself for the day. I'm yelling in my mind at myself. Get a grip girl. You are better than this. You absolutely CANNOT break down right now. I will not allow it. Despite my psychological protests, my mindless husk of a body goes on and forces me to accept the very thing I wanted to avoid, I'm a prisoner to my mind and an audience in my own body. By 6 o'clock I am dressed and ready, heading down the stairs to the kitchen. My body begins making a bagel for breakfast and I can't help but to try one last ditch effort to return to a state of normalcy. WAKE UP! I scream at myself. The knife that I was using to cut my bagel jerks, slicing my palm clean open. The startling pain breaks me out of my emotionless reverie. I toss the bloody knife in the sink and incinerate the blood soaked bagel in my hand, with the power of my fire, as I hear my mom come down the stairs. I grab a rag from the sink to sop up the small puddle of blood that has formed, and the drops that have begun to roll down the side of the counter. After doing so I incinerate the rag too. I watch in panic as the fire stitches my palm back together at an agonizingly slow rate. I will myself to heal fast as my mom make her way to the kitchen. With each footfall my heart slows, terrified of my mom's reaction if she sees the wound on my hand. I turn back to the sink and turn on the water, purposefully splashing some on the dishes in the drying rack. I wash the knife and slip it into the silverware portion of the drying rack, upside down. My mom steps in the doorway of the kitchen at the very moment my hand finished healing. My body relaxes as I thank god for small mercies and turn to face my mom. She stares at me from the other side of the island counter, where I cut myself, in slight confusion.

"Novah? Why are you up so early?" she asks while yawning.

"I wanted to go out with my friends for breakfast, but I didn't want to leave with dishes in the sink." I lie, motioning to the now wet dishes.

"Oh, I can't believe I left dishes in the sink." She admonishes.

I am quick to correct her though. "No ma you did the dishes before you went to bed. Those are just from my midnight snack." I lie again.

If she doesn't buy it, she must have decided not to question it because all she said was, "Oh ok. Be safe on your way to school. And would you mind grabbing a few things from the store for me when you are on your way home from school. You should also get something to eat for dinner, because I won't be home until late tonight. The hospital is short staffed I will pay you back though."

"No problem ma, and don't worry about paying me back, I just want to talk to you soon." Seeing the worried expression on her face I rushed to continue, "It isn't anything bad, it's only about college and stuff." I smiled. "I've gotta go now, but I stop by the store for you, just text me the list." I quickly walked past her and snatched my bag and jacket off the couch in the living room. "Bye ma." I say as I open, close, and lock the front door. I take my keys put the pocket of my bag where I keep them while cutting through the grass to get to our driveway. I hit the button to unlock the doors, and toss my bag in the passenger seat. Closing my door after I am seated, I start the car and lay my head against the head rest. Knowing there is only one person I could talk to that would get me ready for the day, I call her on face time using my encrypted phone. I connect my phone to the Bluetooth of the car and then set the phone on the magnetic stand on my dashboard, facing it towards me, while pulling out of my driveway.

"Hello?" she says, with her voice raw from just waking up. I see some dried drool in on the corner of her mouth and try not to laugh. She rubs the sleep her not quite open eyes as she smacks her lips.

"Hey babes. Good morning." And when she opens her eyes and sees me, for the first time all morning I genuinely smile.

She smiles too, "Hi mommy."